“Notre-Dame de Reims, that is,” he clarified. “Of course the world is far more familiar with the cathedral in Paris—I blame Victor Hugo—but ours has always rivaled it in importance.”

Liv raised an eyebrow.

“I see you doubt me, but let me lay out my case.”

“You do sound like a lawyer.”

Julien tilted his head back and laughed. “Okay, yes, true. But I am only a part-time lawyer, so maybe this story will only be partly dull. You tell me.” He gestured to the church’s grand facade. “Ground was broken on this church on the sixth of May in the year 1211, which admittedly was forty-eight years after the Parisians began building their Notre-Dame. A point to the Parisians! But ours sits on the site of a church that dates back to the fifth century, which I think is a point to us, yes? And it is where Clovis, king of the Franks, was baptized by Saint Remi.” He looked at Liv expectantly.

“Um, who?”

Julien feigned horror. “Well, of course, Clovis was the first king of what would become France. His baptism here in the year 496 by Saint Remi, the bishop of Reims at the time, was the beginning of converting all the Franks to Christianity, which was a huge turning point in our history. That act began to unify France for the first time, and it happened right here. The original church was burned to the ground, but as you can see, the church built in its place in the thirteenth century was quite adequate.”

“Exactly the adjective I was thinking of,” Liv said with a smile, looking up at the Gothic towers, the beautiful rosette windows, the thousands of intricate statues. “Adequate.”

Julien laughed. “Yes, well, I was being modest on behalf of the church. But in fact, it was also the place in which for many, many years, French kings were crowned. Thirty-three of them, to be exact, including the ill-fated Louis XVI.” Julien checked his watch. “Well, we have a lot to get to in your mini tour of Reims, so I’ll finish with this: the cathedral holds more than twenty-three hundred statues, it is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and it features a famous stained-glass window set by Marc Chagall. But perhaps most important, it was nearly destroyed during the First World War—first by an enormous fire, not unlike the one that happened this spring at Notre-Dame de Paris—and then by years of shelling. But it was rebuilt.”

“My grandmother mentioned something about that,” Liv said softly, surprised to feel tears in her eyes.

“Notre-Dame de Paris will be rebuilt, too, Liv,” Julien said, his tone gentle as he looked at her closely. “It will survive.”

Liv nodded and cleared her throat. “How do you know so much about the history of this place, anyhow?”

“The summer before I went away to university, I was a guide for a company that does walking tours of Reims in English. It’s funny what sticks. I could probably tell you a thousand random dates and facts about this city, but I routinely forget where I’ve left my keys.”

Liv fell into step beside him as they turned away from the cathedral and began walking in the opposite direction. “Okay, so what’s your favorite Reims fact, then?”

“Well, I think perhaps I have three.” He led her around a corner, and they turned right. “The first is that although this city was nearly destroyed a century ago, during the First World War, it was entirely rebuilt and restored to its earlier majesty. We are in a city that never bowed, never broke. That has always made me very proud to be a Remois. I think that’s a spirit you can find among our winemakers, too. They have weathered Mother Nature’s worst and survived.”

They passed a courthouse and several cafés, and then Julien steered them right and left again as they walked by the town hall and a few stores. “Another thing I appreciate is that Reims is a place that protects its people,” he continued. “My grandfather found shelter here because of the goodness of a few during the Second World War, when deportations were taking place. There are dozens in the city who were not so lucky, including his parents, but the tale of my grandfather’s survival mirrors many others.”

“What happened?”

“There was a time in World War II when Germans were taking away Jewish citizens, sending them to concentration camps. It is a stain on France’s history.”

They were walking through a sunlit park now, crossing to the other side, but still, Liv felt a chill. “Forgive my ignorance, but I thought deportations were more in places like Germany and Poland.”

Julien shook his head. “In France alone, there were more than seventy-five thousand innocent people sent away to concentration camps, including many children. Only a very small number of those survived.”

“That’s horrible,” Liv said.

“Yes, but all around the country, including here in Reims, there were people working for underground networks to fight the Nazis and help save innocent people. My grandfather was assisted by just such a network. He lived because of the courage of those who risked it all.”

“That’s incredible.”

“It is.” Julien steered her down another street, and then he stopped in front of a red brick building. “And for all the horror of the Second World War, there’s another piece of beauty right here.” He gestured to the building and Liv followed his gaze. “This is where the war in Europe ended, on May 7, at 2:41 in the morning.”